


The Saturday Morning Routine

by White Aster (white_aster)



Category: D.N. Angel
Genre: M/M, Sappy, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-08
Updated: 2005-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_aster/pseuds/White%20Aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took months of painstaking, patient lessons, but Satoshi eventually taught Daisuke that lazy Saturday mornings were not for sex.  Well...not just for sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Saturday Morning Routine

It took months of painstaking, patient lessons, but Satoshi eventually taught Daisuke that lazy Saturday mornings were not for sex. Well...not just for sex.

Daisuke was suspicious of this assertion for a long time. Evidently "in bed" + "Saturday" = "sex" in Daisuke's brain, and he had trouble processing any permutations of that equation. With Dark lurking in the back of Daisuke's subconscious, Satoshi was not surprised that Daisuke's sexual appetite, even at 21, was that of the average 16-year-old and probably would be for life.

"You want to just lay in bed and read?"

"Yes."

"Just...read."

"Yes."

"....And not...?"

"No."

"...."

" ...Don't look at me like that, I don't mean forever, just for awhile."

"Oh! OK!" Daisuke cuddled back into the covers, the pillows, and Satoshi's chest indiscriminately.

Satoshi sighed and found a comfortable way to prop his book up on Daisuke's hip. Daisuke didn't seem to mind.

For the first five minutes.

Then he wiggled. And sneezed. And wiggled some more. And stretched. And sighed.

"What IS it, Niwa?"

"...so...how long is awhile?"

Satoshi sensed a trap, but figured that setting some boundaries wouldn't be a bad idea. "Until noon."

"Noon? That's...that's hours!" Daisuke made it sound as if Satoshi was expecting him to wait until the next ice age set in.

"Yes, that's rather the point."

Eventually, after several Saturdays where Daisuke couldn't fall back to sleep and Satoshi had nearly thrown him out of bed due to excessive mournful looks and distracting wiggles and deep sighs, Daisuke evidently realized that the morning would pass much more quickly (and he stood a much lower chance of pissing Hiwatari-kun off) if he had something to do in bed, too.

Daisuke was not much of a reader. He worked much better visually than through stark words on a page, and after trying several Saturdays of reading, he gave up on that idea. Then he tried manga. That worked pretty well, but got a little expensive, since he could easily go through five or so volumes in the course of a morning.

Then he thought of drawing. It was something he could do sitting down, sitting still, and being quiet, which were Satoshi's requirements. There were a few negotiations over drawing medium. Satoshi vetoed chalk and charcoal out of hand (he'd seen Niwa walking around with charcoal on pants and shirt, in his hair, and on his face after more than one drawing session, and he wasn't subjecting their sheets to such treatment.) Daisuke lobbied desperately for pencil, but Satoshi pointed out how the little rubber eraser shavings would get into the sheets and...other places. Daisuke relented.

They finally agreed on ink. Daisuke usually didn't work with it much because it was unforgiving and mistakes had to be worked around rather than erased or painted over. But, for the sake of a morning in bed with Hiwatari-kun, pen was apparently acceptable. Satoshi quietly thought that it would be good for Daisuke to practice with it. Daisuke's painting style was exuberant and irrepressible, cheerful and passionate, but it was undisciplined, given to Van Gogh-esque broad strokes and splashes. Which, Satoshi had to admit, held its own kind of charm, but Satoshi was certain that if he could just get Daisuke to be more precise, that Daisuke's work could be something magnificent. Not to mention they'd save a fortune on paint.

So, Saturday mornings became Read and Draw In Bed Mornings. Satoshi would wake up at seven o clock on the dot, yawn, stretch, and get up to make coffee. By seven thirty, he would have been in and out of the bathroom, and there would be coffee and toast or bagels. Daisuke would shuffle out of the bedroom with his hair standing up at even more ridiculous angles than usual, and breakfast would be quickly eaten before returning to bed. Daisuke had only suggested that they eat breakfast in bed once. The Look that Satoshi had given him over the idea of Crumbs. In. The. Bed. was quite enough to make him drop that idea. Satoshi was lenient enough, though, to allow the necessity of coffee, as long is the cup was returned immediately after sipping to the nightstand on either side of the bed.

Satoshi would straighten out the bedding from whatever gyrations Daisuke had twisted it into in the night, and Daisuke would fetch the Saturday morning supplies. Then they'd pile in bed, surrounded by the Saturday newspaper, a few books, Daisuke's sketch pad, Satoshi's laptop, Daisuke's laptop, and various pens and markers laid carefully on the nightstand. Reading would commence, Satoshi choosing from the newspaper or the books or something online. Drawing would soon follow, Daisuke propping his lapdesk in place and hunching over either sketchbook or laptop. The laptop was a belated addition, at first brought only when Daisuke wanted a picture from his digital camera for reference. Then it branched into a side interest in photomanipulation, which branched into an idle interest in digital artwork, and the rest was history. Satoshi privately thought that Daisuke's digital work always looked flatter and less lively than his hand-drawn pieces, no matter what brushes he used, but he had to admit that some of the effects Daisuke was able to pull off digitally were impressive.

The morning would pass peacefully enough, with Daisuke usually starting to yawn again around ten-thirty or eleven, when the caffeine and sugar high from breakfast wore off. This usually meant that Satoshi's shoulder and/or side and/or lap was slowly appropriated as a leaning post and/or pillow. Satoshi often didn't exactly notice when this happened, just that he'd look down at some point and have spiky red hair tickling his cheek or spread across his thighs. He'd smile and go back to his reading, or sneak a look at whatever Daisuke had been working on.

About forty-five minutes later, Daisuke would wake up, slowly, nuzzling contentedly into whatever bare skin was available. When he'd fallen asleep with his head in Satoshi's lap, and sometimes even when he hadn't, Satoshi would set aside his reading or carefully power down his laptop. He'd reach out and take Daisuke's face between his hands, kissing him the rest of the way awake. Daisuke would wind himself around Satoshi, arms and legs both, in whatever combination would get him closest to the maximum amount of Satoshi's skin. Satoshi would wait until Daisuke started making hungry little mews in the back of his throat, then lay him back on the bed, straightening him out on the covers. Sometimes he would slide down Daisuke's body, licking and nibbling as if Daisuke were a particularly rich, particularly decadent dessert. Sometimes he would take Daisuke in his hand, working him slowly as Satoshi sucked on sensitive nipples. Sometimes he would hold down Daisuke's hips, take in his length and suckle as gently as he could, tracing Daisuke's cock delicately with his tongue until Daisuke clutched at his hair, desperate, begging. Sometimes he would slide between Daisuke's legs, press slowly into him, make love to him until they both cried out and Daisuke's seed splashed between them. Sometimes he would straddle Daisuke's hips and ride him, back arched, taking the sweet invasion of Daisuke's hard cock again and again and again. Sometimes (though not often, admittedly), they would do none of these things, Satoshi merely kissing Daisuke gently until they fell asleep again in each other's arms, to wake groggy and hungry for lunch.

All of these permutations, Satoshi decided, were the ONLY ways to spend a Saturday morning, and whenever someone suggested a Saturday morning meeting, appointment, or some other obligation, Satoshi always deferred it until later in the afternoon. It gave him a bit of a reputation as a late riser, but a late riser that was always extremely pleasant to deal with on Saturday afternoons.

~End


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